


While you were at Arkham

by Tea_Queen_2112



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Ambiguity, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Discussion of Past, Gen, Not coping, Past Violence, They care but not openly, ambiguous situation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:21:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22566973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_Queen_2112/pseuds/Tea_Queen_2112
Summary: Jon has been away for about 3 months. Jervis tells him Edward has been acting strange. After a week of returning back to the lair he decided to get to the bottom of it.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma
Kudos: 65





	While you were at Arkham

Coming back from Arkham should have felt relaxing to Jonathan. Like finally coming home after a long trip. A sense of feeling like he was finally home. He had hoped to come home to Edward’s annoyances, Jervis’ sing-song tone and back to his lab. Despite being alone in Arkham he did almost admit to missing their company. 

Being home for a week and already he could see that everything was wrong. Not everything, he supposed. Just Edward was wrong. Jervis had mentioned it before but he merely assumed it had been something to do with Ed having an off day or two. This ended up not being the case. 

His behaviour had gone on for long enough. Edwards constant pacing in the middle of the night was one thing but now it actively sounded like he was trying to keep himself awake at the cost of everyone else. He'd be tinkering with a plastic puzzle or even muttering to himself. All things Edward didn’t normally do. Jon wouldn’t have minded except that his room was only a door down. It was muffled but he could still hear it happening. 

It wouldn’t be so bad except when Edward didn’t get at least 5 hours of sleep he became irritable. Not only in the sense that he’d be an annoyance but if you ever tried to ask him a normal question he’d completely snap. 

So here he was. Standing in the doorway of Edward’s dimly lit room. 

The silhouette of Jonathan stood in the doorway. Edward has been busy sketching away on his desk. 

Edward would have tensed except he knew how to recognise Jonathan in a heartbeat. Except it wasn’t Jonathan. It was that bloody Scarecrow. It wasn’t anyone else. 

Days had gone past, his memories almost blurring together. He thought it could have been summer when in reality it might as well have been winter. He’d almost forgotten that Jon had even gotten out of Arkham. 

Jon placed his hand on the table. Needles adorning his glove, the tips tapping rhythmically against the table. The toxin glowing a bright yellow. Edward paid it no mind. He’d seen it a lot of times before. 

“Your schemes are coming to fruition?” Jon asked. 

“Not that you care.” Edward spat harshly, taking a sip of his drink. Jon was taken aback by his abrupt tone. 

Edward being bitter. Such a new concept. Jonathan thought. 

“I care tremendously. I’m asking, aren't I?”

Edward put down his mug, still not looking Jonathan in the face. 

“I’m asking because Jervis is terribly worried about you.”

“He has unfounded worry.”

There was a shudder from Edward. It was small yet the shudder itself still told Jon that perhaps Jervis had a point. At this point in the conversation, Edward would have found a way to shoehorn in a riddler. Even the word riddle. Not a single peep. 

“I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Implying what exactly?”

“I haven’t been here for a month and I come back to you changed. You’ve adopted new habits from what Jervis has told me. I noticed you haven’t even touched your puzzle book. There’s a thin layer of dust on it.”

Ed looked around for where he’d left the darned book and wiped away the dust layer. He wiped the dust on the chair. Jonathan picked up on this almost instantly. A man so close to godliness wouldn’t simply wipe the dust on the chair.

Ed fucking knew it. He should have escaped this little town while he had the chance. Gotham was a hell pit filled with awful people. Plagued by stupidity and violence. Only perfect in the sense he detached himself when he kidnapped them for his games. Still, people lurked about Gotham. Like venomous vipers. Edward was the smartest of them all. Yet still not smart enough to avoid getting bitten.

“I’ve been perfectly fine. Except now you’ve disturbed my drawing.”

The drawing was disturbed. Edward was normally so dedicated to his artwork that if he made a single mistake he would adamantly refuse to use a rubber. A new page meant a clean slate. His worktop was covered in little rubber shavings. Lightly dusted across the top. Something that would have irritated Edward under normal circumstances. 

A mixture of Jervis filling him in all the times he’d visited Jon in Arkham. Telling him how Edward seemingly changed over one morning. Then for the next couple of weeks act similar to his normal self only to have moments where he became a stranger to himself. Jervis ranted and raved about how it wasn’t normal and that was wonderful. 

Their hideout had become dysfunctional. When Edward wasn't on top of things they fell out of balance rather quickly. It wasn't that Jervis was incapable but rather he was very easily distracted by all things bright. 

“I just want to check in case you’re dealing with any new trauma, something I may have missed during my 3-month visit to Arkham.” 

Edward still kept on sketching, careful to hide his expression knowing his expression would give him away. 

Riddler isn’t supposed to be someone who hides away in a lair, back pressed firmly against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, despising his own reflection. Trying to breathe when all he can do is suffocate. The great all-knowing Riddler wasn’t supposed to have his heartbeat a mile a minute with disgust rising in his chest, hands clenched tightly by his side as he tried to quell his shaking. The way his sweat dripped down his skin, soaking into his clothes like the rain had done in the alley that night. 

“I don’t have trauma. I just have unpleasant memories.” Edward started to sketch down harder on the table. All of Jonathan's questions slowly beginning to seep into him. Under any other circumstances, he’d tell Jonathan off, scold him for being presumptuous. Edward didn’t have the energy to deal with him. For the past month, he felt tired yet when he slept he was vulnerable. 

Anxious as well. He’d worry about petty things. Normally he did but this time it was about things he’d normally be so confident with. Asking Jervis if he minded him working in the main room left him digging his own nails into his scalp. The occasional scab forming over accidental cuts from nips on the backs of his hands.

He’d been a wreck this last month and everyone knew. Eyes watching him messing up his traps. My god, he hadn’t even been able to get a halfway decent riddle out in weeks. He’d not been able to focus on what made the most sense. If even the loony Jervis could notice it then surely the others had. Jervis, bless his heart, was a blabbermouth. Not being able to keep a secret to save his life. 

“How fascinating would it be to dig into your brain and find everything that makes you squirm,” Jonathan mentioned. 

Edward stopped mid sketch. Jon’s wording had made his skin crawl. 

“Careful now Jonathan. One wouldn’t want to accuse you of making this crude. Crass if I might be so bold.” He worked harder on the drawing, rubbing the page so much that he caused a small rip. Frustrated he scrunched up the paper and threw it into the big, ripping another page from the book and beginning another sheet. 

“Hmmm. Interesting.” Jonathan said. 

Edward turned around. 

“Yes. I am well aware that I am. But for the sake of my own amusement, interesting how?”

“You made it crude by pointing out that possibility. Is that where this stems from? Edward you’re pathetic already don’t make it any more so.”

Ed laughed. 

“How pitiful Crane. Getting your kicks from asking me menial questions. And if your slow mind has already forgotten. I will repeat. I don’t have trauma.” 

“We’ve co-owned the same hideout for quite some time now. Recently your sleep patterns, which little do exist have been disturbed. I’d like to help you find the source. Despite our...differences, I do think it would be a mistake to let you stew in your own pain despite how beneficial it would be to myself.”

All these questions had torn at the blockades in Edward’s mind. His eyes wandering over to the bathroom door. How he needed it. 

“I am...I can…”

In all of their time together, he didn’t think he’d ever seen a single moment where Edward would be at a loss for words. The man in green fell silent, scrunching up his face before taking a deep breath with closed eyes, opening upon exhaling. 

His face turned back to the paper but he didn’t pick up the pencil. He was unable to look at Jonathan. 

“Edward?” 

Edward couldn’t cope with how softly Jon said his name. He almost didn’t think it was his own. 

“Don’t. Please.” Edward placed his head down on the desk. The wood desk was cooling on his head. Now if only the wood could calm his throbbing headache. His headache getting worse with each word Jon spoke into existence. 

Jon wasn’t sure what to do in this situation. He hadn't comforted anyone since his days as a professor. And even then those days happened over 6 years ago. 

“Edward wait I didn’t-”

“You're manipulative bastard no it's never going to change for you, Jonathan. You think just because you have a PhD in psychology You can go about doing that. I have enough to think about with you stirring it.” Edward yelled. He stormed up from his desk, almost knocking his mugs and books to the side. 

Jonathan didn’t feel like he’d meant it out of anger. It was defensive. 

The worst part. Edward’s accusation was accurate. He supposed to Edward any mind trick used on him he could be seen a mile away.

Jonathan opened his mouth to continue but when Edward saw his lips part he simply had more to say. “That's not how it should have been. You and your stupid questions. For a brief moment, I thought-”

He paused himself and resumed his sketch. His movements lethargic, exaggerated by his skinny figure. He felt small, grief consuming him. The ache in the bottom of his stomach. The pencil skewed off to the side, adding to his frustration. 

Nothing was certain. His feelings weren’t certain. 

“Edward...This isn’t the Scarecrow talking.”

His world was bleak. Jonathan’s world was filled with nothing but the shades of orange. Jon couldn’t exist without the Scarecrow and the Scarecrow would cease to exist without him. Jonathan had been in the Scarecrow’s shoes for so long that often he’d forget despite his morals he still had his empathy, lost in a maze of burlap and toxins. Shades of orange filled his mind daily. 

Still, Edward was a different shade in his world. A little drop of the green, much like how Jervis was a splash of blue to his orange. 

It wasn't so far as a separate personality per se but rather he’d get very deep into his character however if it were between life and death he’d slip out of the Master of Fear role in 2 seconds. It was like removing superglue out of your skin. It could be done but not with much ease. 

At this moment Edward needed Jonathan. 

"I'm sorry that you feel-"

“Don’t be sorry for something you know you’re going to do again. I don't expect you to change in the coming weeks. I needed you, Jonathan. When you were in Arkham I know damn well you could have escaped but you didn’t. Even with Jervis telling you lies. I am fine! I've been fine for the past month and I'm fine now. I don't need you to be fine. I'll just keep doing what I've been doing. Which is fine.”

Despite the evidence, it was remarkable how Edward still refused to acknowledge he had a problem. Yet he still confirmed a suspicion. It wasn’t a lot to go off but yet he was in a better position then he was 15 minutes ago. Edward didn't even add to the illusion that he was working on his drawing. He just kept on looking down at the page and praying Jon would stop asking his questions. 

“Is this what this is about? I wasn’t here for you when something terrible occurred.”

Jon didn't fear things in a traditional sense. He had a phobia of bats and his grandmother but other than that no sorts of phobias. This was more of a deep-seated nervousness. With this admission, it meant something went wrong for Edward and the fact that Ed was physically shutting down over it. Edward never shut down over things that would warrant it. Like seeing his father on his death bed. 

“I’m tired, Jon.”

Edward got up from the desk, looking Jon in the eyes with perhaps the most dead look in his eyes he'd ever seen. Edward's eyes were sunken, looking like a literal ghost. Jon reacted by allowing Edward to pass. Edward walking into the bathroom and closing the door. Jon's fist curled but uncurling upon hearing the door lock snap shut. 

Jon turned away. He could get information from him another day. If Edward was going to pass out from exhaustion he might as well let him rest. 

Jonathan came back out to the sitting room. It was a small room. Kinda one that doubled as a main room and kitchen. He heard the TV blaring some cartoon sound effects so more than likely Jervis was sitting up for the night. He sat with his legs crossed on the sofa, holding his hat in his hands, watching Alice eat the cake. He only noticed Jon when he physically moved his body between him and the TV. 

“Ah. The Scarecrow, The Scarecrow. How does dear Edward fair so?” Being in Arkham for 3 months he’d missed Jervis speaking in his little rhymes. He would have if he’d been allowed to yet a single glance from the guards made him hold his tongue. 

What could he tell Jervis? That something had happened but he couldn't find out what it was. What kind of psychologist was he? 

Jonathan pondered the situation. “He’s troubled by something but I’ll figure him out yet.”


End file.
